Frostburg mining journal. [volume] (Frostburg, Md.) 1871-1913, 1887-06-25

lOr, we assert WITHOUT rear OF success
full contradiction" that summer ha,
come-glad, bright, glorious summer
the season of foliage, beauty, fruit and
cucumbers.
1t has come-not like wild Indian
warwhoop, but softly, suggestively
upon the daily editor like a dream OF
his hereafter-in fact. it has come upon
the weeklies in Cumberland, Lonacon-
ing, and other places away out in the
country, just as their tired, exhausted,
perspiring editors were about to inflict
upon their millions of subscribers 1.-The
Year Without Summer"
And like hated newspaper rival,
starting so frequently in those out-of-
the way towns, sit has come to stay"
Summer brought "96 degrees in the
shade" as "a guarantee of good faith, )"
and published the degrees, guarantee
and all.
She came in officially on Tuesday.
But her jubilant tra-la and merry
sunshine greeted us weeks ago.
The get-there- Eli-ative bugs and flies
accompanied summer to our altitude,
stragglingly, it is true, but still strag-
glers forage-bent for human flesh and
blood.
Officially, she brought the longest
days and shortest nights of the year.
But as matter of fact she has been
shaking hot daylight in all its gauzy,
shimmering, calorifed misery in spots
big as week over this metropolis for
some time.
The nights, however, have shown up
we'll Us an intermittent cross between
sheet for the cleaning and a blanket
for the morning twilight.
1t is to be regretted that summer
justilies the abnormal, outrageous,
hideous bustles which our loving and
otherwise lovable women will persist
in wearing in place Of those dear,
delightful, clinging, flowing, graceful
draperies of "the human form divinen
that were erewhile the fashion and the
joy.
Summer brings excursions and ice,
ice cream, picnics and lemonade, some
elegant laziness and restless sleep, hate
of work and love of beer, parched and
dusty streets, itincrating cows, zephyrs
and storms, sweat and moonlight.
Summer is the heyday of rhubarb
pie, bumblebees, collie, and sand in the
little boys hair who never went in the
water.
In old Decay summer is the proIh h.
ecy of Resurrection early next year
it will be fulfilment.
1t is an incident of the annual tour
of this old globe along its elliptic
groove through the solar sub division
OF electric space q spark from the
incandescent fame which lights the
consultations, and bends the distant
nebulae into spirals penetrating depths
away off toward Hercules hitherto
unfathomed by human sight.
Summer is the time for political
promises to be cut en- train and worn
extra long. A few have already APP
peared and they are beautiful.
Nh,c hoe loo, ,-o,,, oo,,o,,o
upon the walking delegate. The busy
bee is thrifty, but somehow the honey
crop promises badly for those who
feed during the winter on the flower
and fruit of other peoples summer
labor.
Summer is the christian type of the
season perpetual in heaven. The un-
zoned orb shall blaze with light ever
lasting.
The heather have peopled the night
less land with deities ever propitious.
Dryads in every grove and naiads in
every fountain, bask or sport under an
ever-shining sun.
She fetches three-quarters of the
stenches and Ills of life, and eleven.
twelfths of its fragrance and blessin gs.
Strike q balance and it is in her
favor.
The JOURNAL, which is sometimes n
philosopher, endeavors to skip the
discomforts and absorb the benedic-
tions of summer.
Last Monday, however, the heat
we'll nigh overturned every settled
purpose of life.
Results--a week of fruitless effort to
think sensibly, and this our only poem
on summer.
NHAl AEEAInc